Behind the Rainbow II
by relative1983
Summary: Only makes sense when having read Behind the Rainbow. Contains oneshots of missing moments, scenes that never made it, what happens in the future, etc. third part now posted!ON HOLD!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP and related characters/works. (I'd be rich if I did own it)**

**A/N: **This is the first piece of work I'm posting in Behind the Rainbow II. This is in fact the original prologue of Behind the Rainbow, as I once wrote it, nearly two years ago. I wonder if you can guess who'se POV this is, and what you think of this? Now remember, Behind the Rainbow II wil contain things that never made it into the story, to what happened after-scenes. It's like having a bunch of one-shots. Thanks again for my beta azntgr01! (oh, and don't expect fast updates with this one, it's not finished like Behind the Rainbow was)

**Prologue**

The beeping of the machines, and the soft murmurs and sobs are the only sounds in this small room. The room is not as white as I had always imagined it would look, but still, I can think of nicer places to be.

I can barely look at the bed standing in the middle of the room. You lie in it, looking so pale, so frail. And I hate it. I want to scream at the injustice of the world, want to give you something, anything to make you better, yet knowing nothing's going to save you now.

Your friends are devastated and their families, too. Heck, even your aunt is crying, although, that shouldn't surprise me too much.

I've managed to get my godfather into the room as well. He was so absorbed into looking for a cure; I think he just didn't want to see you like this. But well, looking for a cure has gotten useless. The doctors told us you've practically left your body behind yesterday. Flying away, you called it.

The machines keep your body going, but we all know that's the only thing we have left. You will not open your eyes anymore; will not be looking at us with your sparkling eyes. No more adventures at Hogwarts, no more secret meetings. No more Quidditch battles and 'rivalry' to uphold. No more...

And this fact - coupled with knowing that in one hour the machines will be stopped, and your last link to this earth, your body, will cease to be - makes me, yes me, the ice cold, aloof person, cry.

It doesn't help knowing that you fought long and hard, in the end you still lost. And you just can't have lost. Not like this, not in this way. You were supposed to grow old, have lots of children, keep the press of your back, celebrate Voldie's defeat with us, not die before even reaching your last year at Hogwarts.

I cry even harder, and feel a warm body sit behind me, holding me. By the smell I know it's my godfather. Thank goodness I have him. I even have some real friends, your friends, but... I'd rather have my very first friend back. It's just not fair.

Oh god, the doctors are here. They're going to stop the machines. They're going to make you go away. No, no, that's not right. You weren't in your body ever since yesterday. You're already gone.

It's stopped. The machines stopped beeping, and the only sounds in this room are now of crying people, of heartbroken people. I can't stand to look at your body anymore, so I turn and bury my face in the folds of my godfather's clothes.

I sniff and mumble, "Goodbye, Harry. I hope you're with your family now."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** And here is the second little piece of work. To the ones who geussed about the first piece of work, yes it was Draco's POV. And guess what? He's futuring in the one as well. But don't worry, other people with get their own little piece of work. I suggest you wait a while for those though, I'm bussy with my final pieces of work for university, and plan to graduate in june. (hopefully). This also explains lack of updates with my other stories. Enjoy this! And thanks to azntgr01 for betaing.

* * *

Draco was firmly staring at the solid black wall for more than an hour now. He hated his father right now. How dare the man get himself caught and being put into Azkaban, honestly, didn't he have any ounce of Malfoy cunning left? Draco snorted to himself. It seemed not. How disappointing.

On the other hand, he had always known his father was a right jerk. As was his mother. There _was_ someone who could get him out of his rather bleak future of serving a rather big maniac, but how to approach that person? After all, he didn't know where the other one lived, and he wouldn't know how to put this delicate information on paper anyways. Still, Draco snorted once more, while he listened to his mother preparing herself to go to some sort of big party. He might be able to send a letter when she was out, after all the House Elves knew they were to listen to him once his parents were out of the house. Yes, he decided, that's what he was going to do. His mother probably wouldn't be taking much longer before leaving, so he would be able to write the letter, and sent it of with his owl, Archimedes. His owl was smart, surely he would be able to find the person who could help him. Smirking slightly he stood up, and walked over to his desk, composing the letter.

_Harry was wiping the sweat of his forehead. It surely had been a rather surprising summer so far. His aunt had announced she was going through a divorce, and he was to move out with her. Unfortunately his aunt didn't have much money, but Harry went to Gringotts and got things settled for now, so they could rent this small flat. It was on the 4th floor of a large flat in London. The flat consisted of a small hallway, a living room with open kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom, as well as a small balcony, which Hedwig rather liked. Sure, she didn't like having to move to busy London, but well, Harry had told her the reason, so she settled down quickly enough._

_Some of his classmates found it rather strange he talked to his owl like that, but to Harry it was very normal. Often she was his only companion, and she was a very smart owl, so why not talk to her? Better than having to deal with a disgruntled owl._

_Right now Harry was watching several of the children who also lived in the flat. He had been outside one day, when he caught one of the small toddlers escaping their mother's attention, and nearly running on the street. He had caught the little one, made her stop crying, and after enduring the hugs and kisses from the mother, he had offered to look after the little girl more often. Sarah was his first kid. Right now he had four children to watch over though. It earned him a bit of money, which he gave to his aunt so she could buy better food. Petunia had found work as a secretary and rather liked it, but as she had just started working the pay wasn't too great just yet. So therefore Harry was being a childminder, and he worked in a bakery nearly every morning. It was rather hard work, but kept him busy, and earned him some more money so they could buy some new clothes once in a while. The money from Gringotts was used to pay the rent. In a few months his aunt hoped she would earn enough money to pay the rent herself once more._

_Harry looked up at a surprised shout, and looked up into the sky where Tommy was pointing towards. Tommy was a six year old boy who wasn't impressed often, but he was now. And for good reason too. There was a great brown owl flying directly towards them after all. Harry paled, he didn't recognise the owl, but knew it was probably heading towards him. Luckily they were in a rather sheltered part of the park, and the children's stories of owls could be taken as fantasies, but whoever was stupid enough to send him a letter in brought daylight? While he was thinking this over, the owl had landed next to him on the bench, and hooted slightly haughtily, while sticking out his leg, to offer the envelop tied to it. Harry carefully reached out his hand, and untied the letter. The children meanwhile had come closer and Tommie was softly petting the owl. The owl seemed to puff up even more when two of the little girls exclaimed what a pretty bird he was, and how lovely he looked. Harry grinned slightly, and opened the letter. The handwriting seemed familiar somehow._

_When he had read the letter his face had gone through several different expressions, ranging from shocked, to disbelief, to understanding. He told the owl to wait until later, and that he would write his reply later this day. Then he tucked the letter inside his pocket, and started to play with the children once more. The owl flew up to go and sit in a nearby tree, and followed Harry and the children to the flat some hours later. He would sit on the balcony making Hedwig jealous until Harry had written the letter. He finally tied it to his leg and sent the owl of once more._

Draco sat staring at the black wall for nearly the entire day now. Archimedes still wasn't back, but he had good hopes of the owl returning soon. If the reply brought back would also be good, remained to be seen, but he hoped the best of it. Nearly straight away a soft hoot sounded from the window, and Draco stopped his staring to go and open the window. There was at least a reply, an envelope of unfamiliar material was tied to Archimedes' leg. He took of the letter, and offered Archimedes some candies and a drink. When his owl had flown of to the Owlery once more, he opened the envelope and read the letter within. His face went through several emotions during the reading. It went from surprised, to nearly outraged, and then turned into a great big grin. It would work, it most certainly would work. There was his way out of the crazy life his parents had destined him for. He could be – dare he hope – free.

And all because of his one letter. Still grinning he formed his own reply and called another owl to him to send it off.

When the letter was gone, he went downstairs looking for his mother. He would need to ask her permission to go and visit a friend. She wouldn't ask too many questions, as she never was really interested in what he did. He would pack his own bag, with as many neutral clothes as possible, since he was pretty sure wizards robes wouldn't do. Then he would take the Knight Bus and leave this day. On towards his new friend, the one that would help him, as promised in the letter.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This starts around the time Petunia decides she needs to take Harry to the hospital. He's nine years old here. I did change one thing though. A reviewer pointed out to me that in Great Britain the NHS is for free, so Vernon never needed to complain about not going to pay for the treatment. So, I changed it that he just wants to refuse the treatment (like for religious reasons, which of course, with Vernon is just plain bull).

**Special thanks** go to: **owlviennagreen**, who gave me the idea for this piece of work (I did promise!) And a warning: this is not betaed, as soon as it is, I will repost it!

**Sick.**

She looked at the small boy next to her. They were waiting in the hospital to hear his results. The boy looked pale, except for the bruises, that had triggered this visit to the doctors. She wondered if he knew how much she resented him.

When he shyly raised his head, and saw she was watching him, his head ducked down once more, and he made himself evensmaller. She sniffed slightly, hating the boy for looking like that arrogant, miserable, stupid, freak man that had cost her her sister. She hated to see the green eyes that reminded her of what she would never have, and never did have. So she turned away, and looked at anything but the boy.

When a nurse came and called them, she told the boy to follow, and he did so quietly. He always was quiet. It unnerved her, and she always tried to give him chores to do, give him so much work that he should start complaining, so she could justify some more of her anger to him. But he never did. He just looked at her with those damned eyes (_her eyes_), and neatly did his work. It frustrated her to no end.

Inside the doctor's office, she made him sit down in the corner, where a small table and chair stood, while she took the slightly uncomfortabel chair in front of the desk. The doctor looked old, and wore glasses which made him seem very strict. She nearly felt a schoolgirl again, but only showed her discomfort by sitting up even straighter. Then the diagnosis came. Leukemia. That was bad. She felt she needed to give the boy at least some chance to live, after all what ever would the neighbours say if the boy should die on them, and when they found out they had not given him any treatment. So she agreed to let the boy have his treatment, which would start the next week. She wondered if she would need to buy him some new pyjamas now anyway. The immediate thought that came next was '_what a waste of our money_.' But she knew questions would be asked if the boy showed up in the hand-me-downs from her dear Dudikins. So she grudingly decided to buy new pyjamas, socks, underwear and a pair of pants and shirts on the way back home. The boy was sitting quietly in the back, just staring outside.

That night at the dinner table Vernon had made quite a fuss. He had refused to let the boy have his treatment, stating that if would be a perfect excuse to rid themselves of him. But she had talked to him, told him how strange it would seem if treatments were available and the neigbours found out they hadn't given it to the boy. After all, they should appear to be caring people. So after hours of talking to Vernon, he gave in, but stated he didn't want to go anywhere near the hospital. She agreed, and said she would only go to make it look like she cared. She was glad the boy with his damned eyes, would be out of her house.

* * *

He looked quite frightened to be left alone in the hospital, in the large bed, with hardly anyone to keep him company. She straightened her back, told him to behave himself and left. Not even an little wave came from her, and she only smiled when she was safely in her car.

Nearly a month later she once again walked into the hospital. She greeted only for politeness sake, and not because she cared. She only stayed long enough to be informed of the treatments results, and to change some of the boy's clothes, but today she had been a little earlier than normal, and was in no immediate hurry to return home. So when she came to the ward where the boy was kept, she actually took the time to look around her. And she saw the five other sick children in the large hospital beds. Saw how they were surrounded by cards, stuffed animals, and family. And then she looked to the sixth bed, and saw nothing. No drawings, no cards, no stuffed animals, just a little boy. The wall behind was filled with one picture, and it appeared to be a drawing the boy had done himself. And the boy. He had changed. She hadn't noticed it, but his hair had fallen out. Without the black hair the boy looked much less like his father, and much more like his mother.

She stopped in shock. How could she have forgotten that? He was not only the product of that man, he was also a part of her sister. The one she had wanted back in her life, when it was too late. But it wasn't, she realised. After all, the boy was still here, still alive (_but for how long?_). A tear slowly fell down her face. Surprised she wiped it away. A nurse came walking towards her. The nurses were always slightly aloof to her, as they disagreed with the fact she hardly came by. They all liked the wonderfull little boy, and made some effort to spend time with him. And here his aunt was, actually crying for the first time.

The nurse lead her to a seat, and she started sobbing, letting all her grief for her sister out. And she vowed to do anything, anything possible to make that little boy happy, to have something left of her sister, to make her sister proud of her.

And so, when she finished crying, she thanked the nurse, cleaned up her face a little, and walked in the ward. The boy looked at her hopefully. She had never noticed it before, but he did look forward to her visits, even though she behaved awfull to him. So this time, she did it right. She gave him a hesitant smile, which had him open his eyes in surprise, and she carefully hugged his small frail body, afraid he was going to break. And she murmered: "Hello Harry, it's good to see you again."

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A/N: In case you didn't notice, this is Petunia's turning point! 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** This is the POV from Petunia once more. It's set during Draco's stay at their flat. Sorry for not updating for so long, please check my profile for details.

**Chapter four:**

Petunia pretended not to watch the two boys playing some sort of game in her living room, but it was hard not to. She had been quite surprised when Harry told her a boy from his school would come to stay over for a little while. Especially when he then told her it was the infamous Draco Malfoy, whom he had been fighting with ever since his first year.

Of course, she didn't let him get away so easily and made him talk about his reasons for this move. Harry explained that he had received a letter from Draco, one which appeared to be very genuine. Draco had apparently apologised, and even told Harry that he had no wish to follow in his parents footsteps. Petunia knew this was a sensitive point to Harry and she had agreed Draco could stay, but only if he behaved himself.

To say Draco had been surprised to see Harry Potter living in a small flat in London would be an understatement. Of course, he had already popped his eyes out of their sockets just by looking at all the muggle applications around him. The first few days she and Harry had quite a bit of fun using things such as the microwave, the elevator or escalators. Draco of course didn't have a clue what they were, so he didn't even dare to try them out.

But now after nearly a week he was quite happy making some food, and even going shopping in London. She had to admit that the boy had good taste, as he found her a few nice dresses, and some slacks and shirts for Harry.

Now the boys were playing a card game, except she didn't know which one it was. She was startled out of her musings when a small bang sounded. Luckily it wasn't very loud, so none of the neighbours would've heard, but still. She looked in and saw the boys laughing at each other while the cards seemed to be repairing themselves again.

"What are you two playing?" she asked.

Harry grinned at her "It's called Exploding Snap aunt Petunia, and it's quite fun."

She raised her eyebrow. Draco had told her earlier it made her look like his godfather, Severus Snape. "Would you like to learn the game Ms Petunia?" Draco asked. She frowned slightly, and then surprised them by nodding.

Not much later she also surprised the boys by beating them in the game. "Wow aunt Petunia, you're really good at this you know" Harry commented. "Yes" Draco piped up "who'd have thought someone your age could still be quicker than us!" the grin on his face betrayed him though.

Petunia growled slightly "Why you young little rascal. Don't think I will let you get away with such language." She stood up and made a move to grab him. Of course, Draco and Harry had anticipated that move, and shot of from the couch, darting towards the front door. "We just need to go outside auntie, forgot an urgent appointment!" And off they went.

Laughing Petunia turned back towards the kitchen, making sure she would serve their favourite foods tonight as they sure would be hungry after all that running around.

Life was finally looking up, she thought.


End file.
